Where We Will, We'll Roam
by SparrowAndPhoenix
Summary: Set 9 years after AWE, this story follows the adventures of Will Turner, captain of the Flying Dutchman, Elizabeth Turner, captain of the Scarlet Queen and their young son, William III who is being sought after by the ancient gods.
1. Chapter One

CHAPTER 1

Standing on the deck of the ship, faint shouts could be heard from below. Most of the crew was busy doing last minute checks on the cargo they were smuggling in and making sure that their cannons were well hidden. Up top, however, there was almost an eerie calm, like a dank and heavy cloud that crept along the rigging and seeped up through the sturdy wood of the deck.

Elizabeth Turner stood at the bow of the ship, staring with a strange sense of horror and incomprehension at the glowing city that was Port Royal just a few miles ahead. Isolation. The feeling of isolation was pervading the night air and carefully wrapping itself around the young woman. She had thought that returning to her old home would be simple. A task to be completed and, once carried out, forgotten and left behind.

However, she was struggling desperately with the dread growing in the pit of her stomach. Seeing the city lights, the familiar high walls that surrounded the port, the many proud ships in the harbor... all of it was forcing memory after memory upon her. Once, comforting and familiar, they had become distant and disquieting.

Her old manor house, beautiful and serene... never truly repaired after that first pirate attack, the land was probably occupied by someone else.

The gallows, located just over the high wall of the port, where Jack had almost hung... where countless other pirates had dropped to their death.

The Interceptor, flags waving proudly in the morning breeze... now lying at the bottom of the ocean.

James Norrington... merely a young man lost in the changing world. Dead...

Her father. Her friend. One of the best governors Port Royal had seen. Dead, left in the care of The Flying Dutchman.

Will...

"I love you. I miss you."

The wind blew her newly cropped hair into her eyes and suddenly, light spilled out onto the deck from the hatch at the back of the ship. "Captain," came a familiar voice from behind Elizabeth, "we're all bolted down. Baines is in the crow's nest and Kern has his directions about entering the harbor."

Elizabeth turned to face her crew member. "Good, Anamaria. Everyone at their stations; we're almost there."

The two women looked in unison toward Port Royal. "When Will and I escaped," said Elizabeth softly, trying to keep the pain out of her voice, "in my heart, I never expected to return here."

Anamaria looked at her captain. "You never know where the wind will take you."

Elizabeth nodded distractedly. Then, her eyes refocused and she turned away from the glimmering coast line. Glancing up at the half moon, she said, "We have 4 hours at most. I want us gone well before dawn."

They had glided into the harbor without any mishap and their forged papers were cleared by the drowsy guards of the docks. Several crew members had stayed aboard the nondescript vessel while the others disembarked, each heading purposefully in different directions to complete their assignments.

Elizabeth knew that actually returning to Port Royal with a crew of only half-decent citizens was ill advised, not to mention the threat it posed to her own safety. Even before the ship had stopped at Tortuga, their had been word of the upheavals wracking the once tranquil town. The disappearance of the governor who later was reported to have been killed was more than a little disquieting. However, when word leaked throughout the Caribbean of the destruction the East India Company's fleet, which had been based in Port Royal, chaos had erupted.

As Elizabeth walked aimlessly through the familiar streets, she glanced around nervously, uncomfortable with the silence. Mentally, she shook herself. Get a grip! This isn't Tortuga for God's sake. There aren't thieves waiting in every shadow, ready to slit your throat. Besides, you're wearing a cloak and no one is ever out at this hour to see you. Yet she could not shake the feeling that there was some unknown menace lurking just around the next turn in the cobbled street.

Then, she stopped dead in her tracks. As she gazed at her surroundings, she felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Whether it was her thoughtless wanderings or a subconscious need that had driven her there, she found herself standing at the gated entrance to the governor's estate.

The young woman was startled to see that the gates, although closed, had neither guards nor even a lock. Automatically, Elizabeth stepped forward, feeling a great weight pressing on her heart. She took a deep breath.

What's the point in delaying? It will only make the moment worse when you decide to enter.

Face set, she strode forward and gripped the cold iron in her hands. Pushing determinedly, they swung inward, creaking slightly from disuse. Slipping between them, she quickly shut them again.

As she made her way up to the shadowy house that loomed ahead, Elizabeth wondered, What happened here? Why hasn't the new governor moved in?

But nothing leaped at her from the overgrown bushes to answer her question. When the arrived at the front door, however, movement a little ways to her left caught her attention and she immediately put her hand on the sword hanging at her left hip.

There was more movement and she could see a small, strangely hunched figure lurking in the shadows. Trying not to make any sudden movements, Elizabeth stepped forward slightly. "Who's there?" she asked in a fierce whisper.

There was no response but the figure seemed to recoil slightly, as if in fear. Elizabeth took another step forward, softening her voice. There was a whimper from the shadows and she stopped short. A woman?

Stepping into a milky patch of moonlight so her face was slightly more visible, she raised her hands in a gesture of peace. She knew that revealing her face was a risky move but her instincts were telling her that this stranger posed no danger.

After a few moments, the distorted shadow moved forward and stepped into the same blotch of light. At first, Elizabeth had trouble figuring out what the figure was. Then she realized that it was not, in fact a woman; it was a young man hunched over in a stooped position, one arm hanging loosely at his side, the other clutching his chest.

Elizabeth inhaled sharply and the man flinched. Keeping her hands in the air, she slowly and deliberately stepped towards him. He flinched again but stood his ground. She stopped moving but kept her hands up.

"It's all right. I'm not going to hurt you." The man didn't move or say anything. "It's all right. Who are you?"

Again silence. The two gazed at each other for a few more seconds. Then the man groaned and fell to his knees. Elizabeth rushed forward, desperately trying to figure out whether the man was in pain or mentally unstable. Dropping to the ground, she gently reached for him, trying to ease him to the ground before he caused any more harm. He lay on his back, not seeming to notice her, gasping heavily.

Kneeling by his side, she reached forward and tried to pry the man's hand away from his chest and collarbone, which he was still clutching. Moving aside the neck of his shirt, Elizabeth saw a horribly inflamed purple and green bruise spreading from his right collar bone to the shoulder.

Judging from the way he was curled over, it's probably broken, she thought as she expertly scanned his body for other signs of injury. There were minor cuts and bruises along his torso and what she could see of his limbs along with a makeshift splint around one of his left fingers. His collar bone seemed to be the worst of his injuries.

He seemed to be on the verge of passing out and Elizabeth did not want to leave him lying on the ground. What is he, though? she thought, trying to think fast. He could be an outlaw or a thief of a common beggar. Then she laughed at herself silently. Of course, because a pirate needs to worry about thieves aboard her ship. Oh well.

She glanced up at the manor again. I won't get another chance to come back here. As soon as the officials begin clearing out the place they'll take it all away... I should at least take the valuables.

She quickly glanced up at the moon. I still have time. Half carrying the man into the shadows of the house, she made up her mind. It'll take quite a bit longer to get back to the ship. Elizabeth lay him down as carefully as possible, noting his wiry build and how frail he seemed. Straightening up, she made her way to the front door and entered slowly, the door croaking.

The sight of her old home, the grand entrance hall, the double doorways leading towards her father's study and the dining hall, presented itself to her as though made of gray and silver and black shimmering fabrics. Another wave of unexpected nostalgia washed over her as she carefully made her way up the staircase, noting the rotting boards and pieces of shattered porcelain and glass that littered the floor. Wondering if anything at all would be salvageable, Elizabeth reached the top of the stairs and turned immediately right, heading towards her own bedroom.

She glanced curiously at the wreckage throughout the hallway. There are plenty of broken things here... but it looks as though barely any of it has been cleared away or disappeared. You would think the first thing they would do is to confiscate anything valuable from the estate. She reached the door and cautiously opened it.

As Elizabeth wandered about the room, opening drawers and her clothes chest, looking for useful possessions, small snippets of that fateful night when the Pearl attacked flashed before her eyes. The feel of the medallion against her skin, the gorgeous dress given to her by her father, cannon fire, the shriek of her maid trying to escape from the marauders.

I never found out whether Lydia made it to the Fort, she thought sadly.

Then she shook herself. She didn't have time for sentimental thoughts. She had a mission to accomplish and a half unconscious person rolling around on the ground outside. She did a cursory sweep of the bedroom and stuffed the few precious jewels that she had owned and a few favorite books into the nondescript bag slung on her shoulder. She did not give a second glance to the large wardrobe that held all of her old clothing. I know I won't miss those things.

Walking quietly and swiftly through the door, she passed the staircase and made her way down the left wing hallway, heading towards her father's private study and rooms, where he had conducted all of his personal, non-govenor related business. This door stood slightly ajar and Elizabeth wondered as she entered whether some unknown person had indeed ransacked the house. Perhaps they were officials looking for important records, not just common thieves, she thought as she stepped onto musty carpet.

She made her way to the wooden cabinets and drawers where she knew her father had kept his personal files. Rifling through them, she found nothing too amiss. As she had gotten older, her father had consulted her on the smaller, less important business exchanges and let her help with the organization of personal correspondence and the like. She had made it her business to become very familiar with all of the goings on in the household, Port Royal and their estate in England. A good many of these files, at least those that pertained directly to the Swann family, were kept here in this study.

A few files were missing but Elizabeth was not worried. Pulling a couple of files that contained correspondences with the Prime Minister in London, she closed the cabinets and turned to face the door. Crouching down, she lifted up the carpet and carefully loosened the knobbed floorboard. Underneath, in the small cavern, was a small metal and wooden safe box. Pulling it up, she absent-mindedly dusted it off and pulled out a long, thin strip of metal from an inner coat pocket. Fortunately for Elizabeth, the local locksmith hadn't been very inventive.

She lifted the dusty lid and carefully lit a match, holding it above the small box. Inside were several correspondences, several of them signed personally by His Royal Majesty. Beneath the sheets of paper was a small, velveteen pouch which, when opened, contained 3 thumbnail sized diamonds. There was a also a miniature of a family portrait which Elizabeth knew had been painted when she was one year old. On the right was her father without his silly wig, before they had moved to Port Royal and he had become governor. To the left was a beautiful woman, with long, honey colored locks that had been artfully curled and pinned. The portrait was a serious one yet the onlooker could tell that the woman was smiling through her eyes. On her lap sat a tiny baby girl, dressed in a frilly frock and gazing ponderously at whoever the artist had been.

Elizabeth smiled sadly. She remembered this picture but had not seen it in many years. Looking back into the box she also found a few trinkets of her mother's: her wedding ring, her favorite pair of pearl earrings and an elegantly carved hair stick made of ivory.

Knowing that she had already spent too much time lingering, she carefully closed the box, locked it, slipped the key onto the chain around her neck and slid the box into her satchel. Satisfied that she had collected anything useful that could easily be transported, she exited the room, walked down the hallway and stairs and made her way to the front door. One hand on the cold metal knob, she turned around and gave the house one last sweeping glance before stepping outside into the moonlight.

She strode over the young man who was still lying on the ground. He seemed to be little better and was still only half-conscious. Wary of his injured collarbone, Elizabeth slung his arm around her neck and easily lifted him off of the ground. Groaning, he made an effort to stand but only slouched over when he tried to stand up straight.

"All right," she told him softly. "We have to walk quite a ways and I can't carry you the whole way. So start moving your feet. We'll heal you when we get there but for now, we can't stay here and we must be extremely silent on the streets."

Elizabeth wasn't sure whether the motion he made with his head was a nod or spasm. However, when she gently pulled him with her, he willingly took steps forward. Without a backward glance, she led him down the dusty road, through the gate and out into the night.


	2. Chapter Two

CHAPTER 2

The ship seemed to be floating, as if unsupported by the reflective, glassy substance rippling beneath. Not a whisper of wind was present to fill the slack sails. Yet The Dutchman was moving inexorably forward, drawing the sorrowful string of glowing boats behind it. The sight, if seen by the shining, silvery stars, would have been an eerie procession of death and half-life.

At the helm, a young man, strong and handsome, stood looking back at the wisps of twilight they had left behind such a long time ago. The vibrant colors of the eternal sunset and sunrise were long gone... and farther beyond that, the living world.

Will Turner took a breath and turned his back on the world he so longed to return to. He closed his eyes and tightly gripped the wheel, savoring the solid feel of the worn wood beneath his fingers. Even after five years aboard the ship, he was still not accustomed to the strange netherworld that he was a part of. On the contrary, new discoveries or transformations occurred every single voyage that only heightened the surreal feeling that seemed to envelop the ship just as the undulating night cast itself life a blanket over everything.

Will opened his eyes as he heard the soft footfalls of one of the crewmen but did not turn around. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jamie Hughes lean against the stairs that led down from the bridge. Jamie was the closest in age to Will and had joined the crew two years after Will had become captain. Jamie had proven to be an able sailor and had come from similar backgrounds as Will himself; they would form a strong bond of friendship over the many months filled with silence and death. Often it was Jamie who managed to keep the hearts of the crew light in spite of their grim work.

"I came to relieve you," Jamie said dutifully, standing straight.

Will shook his head. "Standing here is so peaceful. At the helm is one of the few moments that don't disquiet me on this godforsaken voyage. I'll stay."

Jamie nodded and perched himself on the top of the wooden handrail of the stairway. "What were you thinking about?"

"Our world," Will responded quietly. "What it holds for me now... what it will hold for me in five years."

"That girl of yours. Elizabeth. You think she would give up on you?" Jamie said disbelievingly, raising his eyebrows.

"Every year that passes," Will said slowly, "I become more and more unsure whether she will ever forgive me. I promised to spend my life with her and... I betrayed my promise that very day."

Sliding down from his seat, Jamie walked over to stand beside Will. "From what I learned during my short time among the living, that's not the way love works. She isn't going to hate you because you had to pull a noble act and save the soul of you father." Will looked at him in surprise. "Don't think you're the only one who knows the story," Jamie told him. "Your father knows the debt he owes you."

"It shouldn't be a debt," Will disagreed. "I saved him so he could leave the Dutchman. I haven't regretted getting to know my father but I don't want him tied here where he was a slave for so many years."

"Don't forget," Jamie said bracingly, "this was your father's wish and choice. He knows he can leave. Don't let this hang over your head along with everything else."

Will shook his head again, though he himself was unclear on why. He sighed. "Thanks Hughes."

Jamie grinned. "Anytime captain. Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to get some more rest since you seem so sleep deprived." Will nodded his approval as Jamie turned and headed below decks.

The surrounding air was virtually silent again; Will could barely hear the low murmurs of his crew through the open hatch. However, it was not long before a rushing and gurgling overpowered the weak human voices. On cue, Burns up in the crow's nest came shimmying down the ropes and scampered below decks, hollering as he went, "All hands to stations! The Falls are ahead!"

There was a brief cacophony as crewmen came thundering up the steps, shouting at each other as they went. Will could hear his first mate, Sting, shouting orders at the top of his lungs to everyone on deck.

The captain turned his focus to the horizon and narrowed his eyes, trying to aproximate the distance to the edge. At that moment, Sting leapt up the steps to the bridge. Will nodded at him and relinquished his hold of the wheel. Jumping down the steps to the deck, he quickly made his way to the bow of the ship. He could see the swirling mist of the Falls eddying up around the ship as they rapidly approached the lip, sped along by the strong currents.

The Dutchman rushed closer and closer and the ship seemed in peril of falling and crashing upon the shores below. However, when the ship was about one hundred feet from the edge, Will closed his eyes, clapped his hands together and bellowed over the roaring of the raging water, "Brizo! Goddess of the sea and caretaker of the sailor's soul! I, William, captain of the Flying Dutchman, ask for passage through your lands so that these drowned souls may find peace!"

Will could feel the bow of the ship tip slightly and knew that his ship did no need the support of the water anymore; Brizo had, once again, granted his request. Slowly, carefully, the ship glided out into thin air. At last, the entirety of the ship was hanging in space and then, in a blinding flash of white-blue light, a strange, undulating stream of silvery light appeared before it. The rumbling sound of the great waterfall died as the Falls itself slowly faded away.

Will leaned out over the edge of the ship and gazed behind. The long procession of lighted boats was still present, floating in the inky blackness. Then the first set of dinghies were upon them, eerily gliding past. Most of the occupants seemed blind to the presence of the Dutchman, their eyes fixed upon the glowing river.

Then, as the first boat reached the edge of the silvery substance, a shimmering form appeared on the other side of the light. The crew seemed entranced by the sight. Will, along with all of the other men, watched the first boat slowly fade into the dark as it slid across the silvery stream. Time seemed suspended here and everyone aboard the ship stood without moving, some dazed and some quietly respectful. Then the figure began to move forward, effortlessly floating across the river of light.

In a swirl of silver and blue, the goddess Brizo materialized on the deck of the ship. The entirety of the crew stood stock still in awe and shock as she stepped towards Will. Had she not been a revered goddess, Will was sure that there would have been wolf-whistles and dropped jaws.

Brizo was a tall woman with soft, round features. Her storm grey eyes and full lips were set into a strangely pale face and her young, supple body was clothed in extremely clingy and rather translucent fabrics of aquas, navies and silvers which almost looked as though they were made of water droplets and sea foam.

Every man on the ship fell to his knees, awed by the goddess's strange beauty. Will knelt, his mind working slowly, uncomprehending; in all of their voyages to the Edge, Brizo had never appeared before them in human form.

She spoke, her voice soft, barely more than a whisper. "William the Second, there is much torture in your soul. Your heart and purpose has weakened for they are both unknown to you now."

Will's eyes widened and he glanced up in surprise. "You.. know me?" It was half a question, half a statement.

"Perhaps more than you know yourself," the goddess replied. "I know the heart of any man who passes through my waters. I see your pain and longing. But do not give up hope. You still have much to live for."

Will lowered his eyes again, a pain expression flitting across his face. "What irony that I am not truly alive."

"Life is not simply measured by the beating of a muscle," Brizo said gently. "It is measured in the love and passion that possess your being."

Will sighed before a realization hit him. "Wait! You stated you know the heart of anyone who passes through your waters? What can you tell me of my wife, Elizabeth?"

"Look at me, William."

The young man lifted his head and saw a small smile upon the goddess's lips.

"Trust me when I say that your love is well. She is content with the path that you chose and thinks of you."

"What else can you tell me?" Will asked desperately.

But Brizo shook her head. "Much has changed in the world and there are many obstacles that you have yet to overcome. You will see her in due course."

Will nodded. "Thank you."

Brizo moved passed Will, gliding among the sailors. In each man she gazed upon, she seemed to instill a sense of calm and serenity. Until she reached Jamie. She gazed down upon him and a wind seemed to twine itself about her, making her clothing and hair swirl defiantly.

"James Hughes," she stated in that same whispering voice, "you also have a difficult path before you and there is much that you too have to live for."

Jamie looked up, confused and surprised. He opened his mouth but Brizo spoke again.

"When the time comes, you must make a choice. Know your heart."

Jamie gazed at her with wide eyes even as she faded into the dark with a swirl of mist.

There was a perfect moment of silence and stillness before the spell broke and the crew began to stir again. The long line of boats was gone as was the silvery river of light. The Dutchman was once again resting upon the surface of the ocean and the Falls had disappeared.

Will stood up slowly. He turned around to look at his crew. He found his eyes turning towards Jamie whose head was lowered. Shaking his own head, Will spoke.

"All sailors to stations!" He glanced toward his friend and this time, Jamie met his eyes, a look of relief evident on his features. Will gave him a curt nod and strode his way to the stern of the ship and up to the bridge.

"Release the sails and pull out the oars! Put your back into it men! We're going home!"


	3. Chapter Three

CHAPTER 3

_Shadowed images seemed to shudder and flicker before his eyes. A disfigured creature blinked and stared at him before dissolving. A line of what seemed to be humans marched towards him, the red of their eyes glinting off of the metal weapons they held. He sensed rather than felt someone or something behind him and he turned to see a great solid mass swinging towards him. _

_He flinched for several seconds before realizing that nothing had touched him although he was sure that he should be in a lot of pain. Suddenly, a jagged sliver of light shot across the sky, turning everything around him into a brilliant white. Then it was gone and the darkness was back, swirling unceasingly around him._

What is happing to me?_ he thought in a detached sort of way. _Where am I?

_As he thought this, a shadow momentarily encased him then split into reaching fingers which helped to form a hand that reached towards him. The long grey fingers stretched and curled, never touching him. Then another flash of light, dimmer this time._

_However, this time, as soon as the light had vanished, everything was plunged into complete darkness. Yet he could feel the darkness stirring, taking form. He closed his eyes unable to witness the horrible transformation that was occurring before his eyes. _

_When he opened them, the vague outline of what was obviously a voluptuous woman stood before him. He could see long copper waves of hair and a towering figure clad in deep musty greens. But he only caught a glimpse for the darkness swallowed her permanently and he could feel himself drifting far away. _

Elizabeth sat at her small writing table which was shoved into the corner of her small cabin aboard the ship. A thick leather-bound journal lay open one the desk and a bedraggled quill was in her hand as she scribbled into the journal.

A small frown creased her forehead as she contemplated the words on the page.

_William,_

_ When I stepped onto the docks of Port Royal, I remembered my safe and comfortable life in that town. I almost wish that could have shown it all to you. My old house was exactly as I left it. It brought back so many memories of happy times I spent with my father. _

_ However, seeing little pieces of my old life forced me to wonder what would've happened had I remained trapped in that town. I would not have you and my life would've meant nothing compared to what I have now. So thank you for being so understanding, sweetheart. I needed to say goodbye. _

With a short breath, Elizabeth closed the book and bound it with a thin leather strap. Just as she carefully stowed it away in the small chest next to the table, there was a knock on the door.

"Enter," called Elizabeth.

The door opened and Anamaria's head and shoulders appeared in the doorway. "Captain," she stated, "you asked me to inform you as soon as the young man awoke."

"Yes, Anamaria," replied Elizabeth. "Thank you. I'll go to see him myself. You may leave."

The first mate nodded her head once and departed as Elizabeth rose from her uncomfortable seat. Making sure that her chest was properly locked, she exited the cabin and trotted down the narrow stairs where their young patient was being kept. She knocked twice on the door and entered.

Inside she found Miko, their on-board "medic," leaning over the small cot that had been erected to accommodate the young man. Both heads turned toward her as she crossed the small space. Miko straightened up and leaned toward her in confidence.

"Physically, sir," he began, "the young man is doing well. His collar bone seems to have a small fracture but it is not completely broken so he should recover soon. We don't have much aboard to numb the pain, however."

Elizabeth nodded. "Have you learned anything about him?"

Miko's eyes shifted nervously. "That's the thing, sir. I've talked to him since he was coherent earlier today but he claims that he doesn't remember anything. He doesn't seem to know his own name."

Elizabeth frowned. "All right. Thank you, Miko. I'll talk to him now."

Miko nodded, relieved, and left the cabin. Elizabeth turned to the thin man who was gazing silently up at her. She sat on the rickety stool next to his bed, wondering how to break the silence.

To her surprise, however, he was the first to speak. "Where am I? How did I get here? Who are you?" he asked in a rush. His voice was light and smooth, giving him a youthful tone that belied the weary and sunken face.

"I might ask the same of you!" Elizabeth said seriously. Then, after a pause, "My name is Elizabeth. You are aboard a ship, the _Scarlet Queen,_ and we found you in Port Royal."

This information generated nothing but a befuddled expression on the man's face. "None of that sounds familiar. What I told your man was true... I don't remember anything about my life."

"Well, your circumstances certainly don't give us a clue to your background," said Elizabeth thoughtfully. "You can't be trusted until we find out who you are, even if what you say is true."

The man's mouth twisted. "I know."

"You really can't remember anything?"

He shook his head. "No. All I remember is black and white flashes. I was falling. Someone caught me. Then I woke up here."

Elizabeth nodded, deciding not to tell him it was she who had rescued him. She stood up. "Get some rest," she said briskly and turned to leave.

She was almost at the door when she heard him ask, "Miss Elizabeth, why is a woman aboard a ship?"

She turned to him with a small, knowing smile on her face. "Well, at least you still have some awareness of time and place. And that's Captain Elizabeth to you."

She did not wait to see the startled expression that crossed his features but shut the door tightly behind her. She had barely taken a step before Anamaria appeared at her side.

"Well," she said without preamble, "who is he?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "He claims that he doesn't remember anything before I found him."

"Nonsense," the first mate scoffed. "How is that possible? He did not suffer a blow to the head."

"I know. I need to figure out what to do with him. We have some time before we reach port," mused the captain. "I'll see if time gives him a clearer memory. I very much doubt that he was lying."

Anamaria rolled her eyes. "You know how much the navy would love to get their hands on us. Perhaps they tried a different method this time. Perhaps they planted a spy."

Elizabeth shook her head. "That would require knowledge of our whereabouts prior to our docking in Port Royal. Not possible. The clues don't add up."

Anamaria merely shrugged. "I'd like to talk with him, sir. I think I have a fair chance of ringing something from him."

Elizabeth agreed. "Be careful. We cannot reveal anything about ourselves until we are certain of his intentions."

"As if I didn't know that," retorted the dark-skinned woman, turning her back on Elizabeth and climbing up to the deck.

Instead of returning to her cabin, Elizabeth climbed up to the deck walked to the bow. Gazing at the calm ocean cleared her mind and allowed her to consider the situation at hand. It was certainly an interesting predicament.

_I suppose we can't toss him overboard,_ she thought drying. _But unfortunately, by the end of our voyage, we won't be able to let him go. He will know too much even without us directly telling him anything._ She sighed. _But it might also be dangerous to keep him aboard for too long. We don't know what he's capable of and we don't know if he actually does remember things. And if he does, he isn't likely to tell us otherwise between here and port. Why, Elizabeth? Why did you have to bother yourself with him?_ But she knew that she could've never left such a helpless man by himself when she had the capability to help him.

She turned when he heard footsteps and saw Miko approaching. "Captain," he said without preamble, "when examining the man, I discovered a small tattoo on his left shoulder. I 'pologize fer not informing you as soon as I knew, but I thought I could try to find an answer first."

Elizabeth gazed at him stonily so he gulped and continued. "I had a myth-type book on hand and I looked in it fer the symbol. And sure enough, I found what that ink mark is related to." He took a breath. "It belongs to the Cyclops."

His captain raised her eyebrows. "Do you mean the three Cyclops, the gods?"

Miko nodded silently.

She considered this for a moment. "Show me this book. And Miko?" He looked at Elizabeth warily. "Do not withhold information from me again." A threat was implicit in the words.

Miko nodded quickly. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Elizabeth's wishes for smooth sailing, both literally and figuratively, came true. The weather was fair and the mysterious young man's presence was less intrusive than she could have hoped, due to his constant confinement to a small, deserted cargo room.

She was well aware of the crews discomfort with the whole situation but she studiously ignored their whispers and asked Anamaria to placate them as much as possible. In truth, Elizabeth could not for the life of her figure out what to do with the stowaway. And she knew that, sadly, her life could depend on her decision. As for the tattoo on his shoulder, she could make neither head nor tail of it, except to agree with Miko that it was a symbol of the gods. This gave the captain a sense of both puzzlement and apprehension. Her experience thus far with the gods was did not bring about pleasant memories.

There was still a good number of days left on their voyage and she decided it would be worth her while to get to know the man more. She and Miko took turns visiting the man and checking on his condition. He had also been dubbed Nathaniel by Baines, who declared that his cousin, Nathaniel, was almost as forgetful as their stowaway.

Elizabeth opened the door to the storage room, stepping inside for her routine check-in and saw Nathaniel looking healthier than she had so far seen him and quite alert. Fortunately, the hold he had been given was on the upper level, with one small window. But he had also been afforded a candle which he was now using to study a tattered book.

He looked around as she entered the room and gave her a thin, nervous smile. "Goody day, Captain."

"Good day," Elizabeth replied, stopping several feet before the foot of his thin cot. "It seems you are recovering well."

"Yes, or so the doc tells me. I've been meaning to tell you how grateful I am. I mean, I don't know what I might be missing or could have lost but it's a nice feeling… being alive." He trailed off feebly and Elizabeth made an effort not to smile at his babbling. She was determined to remain as distant as possible until she could figure out what to do with the poor fellow.

"No need for thanks. I help people when they are in need. And I certainly found you under difficult and unusual circumstances."

"I hope I did not interrupt any of your plans or destination," he said with an apologetic gesture.

"Do not worry," Elizabeth assured him with a falsely lighthearted tone. "I would have ensured that you did not change our plans in the slightest."

Nathaniel flinched an nodded his understanding.

"What do you think of your new name?" she decided to ask politely.

He laughed weakly "It's… fine. I don't really know any other names besides those aboard this ship. And I think picking one of those would get rather confusing."

Elizabeth's lips twitched. "I quite agree. If something strikes your fancy, don't hesitate to let us know." She paused a moment. "Though I would refrain from choosing anything to gaudy. My crew have a lewd sense of humor. They are sailors after all."

This time, a genuine smile crossed his lips. "I think I am fine with Nathaniel."

_It seems his spirits are recovering too. Perhaps I could convince the crew to keep harassment to the minimum so he can get some fresh air on deck. _Elizabeth considered this for a second. _Then again, I am their captain. I can take whomever I like for a stroll._

She turned her gaze back to Nathaniel and caught him staring, though he quickly looked away, avoiding eye contact. "Nathaniel, I must admit I feel bad keeping you confined down here. I'm sure some fresh air would do you good and I'm sure that Miko would agree with me."

"Miko is the name of my Doc?"

"Yes. So, what do you say?"

He shifted awkwardly. "Well the offer is tempting but my chest and shoulder is still in a wee bit of pain. Standing upright my be a stretch for me right now."

"I was, of course, going to assist you."

"Oh no. I would not want a woman such as yourself to strain on my account."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Nathaniel could tell that he had misstepped. Elizabeth stood there for several more moments, considering him. He could see her facial expression in the candlelight, still as stone. But in her eyes flickered something dangerous, a warning. Then with just a few light steps she had crossed the room and slammed the door shut behind her.

He stood staring at the doorway for many seconds, shocked by the woman's sudden and inexplicable reaction. _I suppose I was wrong to judge her as so controlled,_ he thought blankly. He sat, lost in though until the thud of the book hitting the floor jolted him back. He leaned down, gasping at the shock of pain, and picked up the mythological book he had nicked from the Doc. He flipped back to the page about the Cyclops, studying it, trying desperately to gather clues from the faded text.


End file.
